...
Eventually, he answered the door wearing a tin foil hat. It was quite well made, something he had designed using a pattern, I thought, not just foil wound around his head. I stared at him, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry.
"Well?" he asked, "Are you coming in?"
I nodded silently and stepped into the hallway. He stuck his head out, looking both ways up and down the hall and then ushering me further into the hallway. He spent another five minutes sliding the many bolts back home, locking us into the apartment.
"Better safe than sorry," he said, looking at my face.
"What if there is a fire?" I asked. He contemplated me for a moment.
"We'll probably die," he acknowledged, finally. "But better that than the alternative."
"The alternative?" I asked.
"You know," he said. I didn't, but I wasn't sure I wanted to pursue it further.
"Mother is worried about you," I said as he waved me into the living room.